Secret Agent Seduction

by Maureen Smith

  He nodded, meeting her gaze. “I miss my family.”

  Her heart swelled with compassion. “I know this must be very hard for you, being apart from them like this.”

  Again he nodded. “I wish I could see them.”

  “You know that’s not possible,” Lia murmured. “It’s too dangerous.”

  “I know. I know.”

  Hearing the frustration in his voice, Lia sought to reassure him. “Your mother and your siblings are safe.”

  “How do you know for sure?” Magliore impatiently demanded.

  “Because the agents assigned to protect them are the best,” Lia said firmly. “They check in every day with my supervisor, Nancy Janikowski, to give a status report. If something had happened, she would have called me immediately.”

  “Maybe not,” Magliore said darkly. “Maybe she wouldn’t want me to worry and get sidetracked. Your government wants me to testify at this hearing, no matter what. I wouldn’t put it past your supervisor, or anyone else, to withhold information from me that could possibly hinder my cooperation.”

  Lia frowned. “That makes no sense whatsoever. First of all, if something happened to your mother and siblings, no one would be heartless enough to keep that from you just to avoid rocking the boat. It doesn’t work that way. Secondly, if Biassou’s mercenaries somehow got to your family, that would mean our position may have been compromised, as well, which means we would need to be moved to another location right away. From a logistical standpoint alone, Janikowski would have to fill us in on everything.”

  Magliore looked at her, a hint of mockery in the curve of his mouth. “Such faith you have in your government, ma petite.”

  Her chin angled in defense. “If I’m not mistaken,” she said evenly, “you were the same way four years ago.”

  His expression darkened. “And so I was. For all the good it did me.”

  Before Lia could respond, he shoved back from the table and stood, pacing to the window. She watched as he stood with his arms folded across his chest, gazing out at the torrential downpour in brooding silence.

  In helpless frustration she turned back to her meal. But even if there had been anything remotely appetizing on her plate, she’d already lost her appetite.

  Taking a deep breath, she rose from the table and made her way over to Magliore. His back stiffened as she approached, tension radiating from every muscle in his body.

  She stopped beside him. She wanted to reach out and touch him, offer him comfort, but she was afraid he’d pull away from her, and for some reason she didn’t think she could handle that.

  “I won’t pretend to comprehend just how difficult this has been for you,” she began softly. “I don’t have any siblings, and I’ve never had to look after my parents. They’ve always had each other for that. You’ve been taking care of your family ever since you were fourteen, and suddenly you’re expected to relinquish that responsibility to virtual strangers? That can’t be easy for you. I understand that, believe me, I do. All I’m asking is for you to be patient. After the hearing you and your family will be together again, even if I have to take you to them myself. I promise you that.”

  An eternity seemed to pass before Magliore turned, fixing his penetrating eyes on her. “I just need to know that they’re okay,” he said quietly. “I know I agreed to these terms when I brokered the deal, and the last thing I want is to put their lives in any more danger than I already have. But if there’s any way you can let me talk to them for a minute, or get a message to them somehow—”

  Lia started shaking her head even before he finished speaking. “It’s too risky.”

  “Please,” he implored huskily. “S’il vous plaît.”

  Lia stared up at him, seeing the desperation, the urgency, the naked vulnerability in his eyes. As the seconds ticked past, she felt something crumble inside her. She recognized it as the last of her resistance.

  She blew out a deep, resigned breath. “Actually, there is a way you can safely communicate with your family.”

  “How?”

  “A videoconference.” Lia glanced out the window at the driving sheets of rain spilling from the gray sky. “And the best part is, we don’t even have to leave the cabin.”

  When Nanette Magliore sat down in front of a video monitor and saw her oldest son for the first time in weeks, tears of joy welled in her dark brown eyes. She was a petite, dark-skinned woman with salt-and-pepper hair worn in a soft natural that accentuated the smooth roundness of her face. She was flanked by her two children, Felicite and Henri, twenty-four-year-old fraternal twins who bore little resemblance to each other. While Henri appeared to be as tall and darkly handsome as his older brother, Felicite was petite like her mother and astonishingly curvaceous, with a coffee-and-cream complexion and an exotic blend of features. The only feature the twins shared was Armand’s amber-colored eyes, but even in that they were different. While Henri’s eyes were serious and intense, his sister’s glowed with an irrepressible spirit that was infectious.

  At the moment, all three members of the Magliore clan were staring at the video monitor with identical expressions of happiness and relief.

  The moment they saw Armand, they all started speaking at once. But it was Nanette’s thickly accented island lilt that broke through first. “Is that you, mwen fis?” she asked tearfully.

  Magliore laughed, a sound of pure, unadulterated joy that touched Lia’s heart. “Of course it’s me, Maman. Who else were you expecting?”

  His lighthearted quip was met with a rumble of appreciative laughter. “We could not believe it when they told us we would be seeing you today,” Nanette said, beaming at her oldest son. “I told the agent in charge it would be cruel to tease us and get our hopes up for nothing.”

  “You should have seen Maman,” Felicite interjected with a playful grin. “She threatened to knock that poor man upside his head with her bous if he was lying to us. And you know how heavy Maman’s bous is!”

  Everyone laughed. Even Lia, who stood to the far right of Magliore, out of the camera frame, chuckled at the thought of the petite woman assaulting a federal agent with her purse.

  “They were not teasing you, Maman,” Magliore said, smiling warmly as his deep voice took on the lazy, lilting cadence of Muwaitian patois. “I will be forever indebted to Special Agent Charles for arranging this special meeting.”

  “Is it safe?” Henri asked. “They told us it was too dangerous to see or speak to you at all.”

  Magliore nodded. “They are right, mwen frè. It is very dangerous. But the government has sophisticated technology to make this videoconference one-hundred-percent safe.”

  “How?” Henri inquired, his eyes alight with avid curiosity.

  “Well, basically, the transmitting signal between our two locations is scrambled to keep any unauthorized individuals from tracing—” Seeing the glazed look that came over his mother’s and sister’s eyes, Magliore laughed. “Ah, never mind the technicalities. The point is, this is the safest way for us to communicate with one another. Now, how is everyone doing? Tout bagay anfom? Are you being treated well?”

  All three nodded vigorously. “They told us not to describe too much where we are staying,” Nanette said, “but I can tell you that it is very nice. Very comfortable.”

  “Très bon,” Magliore said approvingly.

  Felicite groaned. “I think I’ve gained too much weight from all this good food they’re feeding us.”

  Magliore smiled affectionately at his sister. “You look just fine to me, ’tite chatte.”

  Felicite grinned, blowing him a kiss. “And that is why you are my favorite brother,” she cooed.

  Henri laughed, reaching behind his mother to tug on one of Felicite’s long, beautiful braids. “She’s just mad at me because I told her to stop flirting with Agent Rollins. You would tell her the same thing if you could see the way she’s been carrying on.”

  “Bah! You tell stories. Besides, it’s not my fault he’s so handsom
e,” Felicite said, smiling coquettishly at someone off-camera, presumably Agent Rollins.

  Lia hid a knowing chuckle behind her hand.

  “Your sister, she likes America,” Nanette informed Armand. “She’s even thinking about staying here permanently.”

  Magliore raised a dubious brow. “Because of Agent Rollins?”

  Felicite laughed. “Non! Of course not! Not that you couldn’t tempt me into running away with you, cher,” she hastened to soothe the agent’s wounded ego, flashing another demure smile at him. “I just want my brother to understand that I have other reasons for liking your country so much.”

  “She likes the president being a woman,” Henri elaborated. “She thinks all countries should be run by women. I told her she will feel differently when you become the next president of Muwaiti.”

  Magliore laughed, shaking his head. “Still campaigning for me, eh, little brother?”

  Henri grinned unabashedly. “If I tell you often enough, maybe you will start taking the idea more seriously.”

  “Petèt,” Magliore said softly. “Maybe.”

  Felicite’s eyes widened with shock. “Bigre! Tu es sérieux?”

  “I’m serious.” He smiled at her, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I will say anything to keep you from leaving home, ’tite chatte.”

  “No one is leaving home,” Nanette said with the decisive resolve of a true matriarch. “America has been good to us, yes, but Muwaiti is where we belong. Where we all belong,” she added with a pointed look at her daughter.

  “Sekonsa,” Magliore said in agreement.

  Inexplicably, Lia felt a knot tighten in her stomach. She refused to examine the cause.

  “I miss all of you,” Magliore said quietly to his family.

  “We miss you, too,” they chorused in heartfelt unison.

  “I will be so glad when this is all over and we can be together again,” Nanette added.

  “Me, too, Maman.” Magliore hesitated, then said humbly, “I’m sorry.”

  His mother and siblings exchanged confused glances. “Why are you sorry?” Felicite demanded indignantly.

  “For putting all of you through this ordeal,” Magliore said, his voice thick with suppressed emotion. “If I hadn’t started this war with—”

  He was interrupted by a barrage of vehement protests.

  “Nonsans!” his mother cried. Leaning forward in her chair, she fixed her son with an intent, piercing gaze. “Listen to me, mwen fis, and listen good. You have nothing to be sorry for. Anyen—nothing! Before we left home, do you know what our people were saying about you? They called you strong and brave. They said any man willing to sacrifice his own life for the good of his people deserves to be called a hero. That is what you are, cher. A hero. If your father was alive today, he would be as proud of you as we are.” Her voice broke on the last word, and tears misted her eyes. “This is your legacy, Armand Jacques Magliore. To return to your countrymen the future that has been wrongfully stolen from them. Don’t ever, ever apologize for fulfilling the destiny God has chosen for you.”

  By the time she’d finished speaking, Lia felt tears clogging the back of her throat. She was not the only one who’d been moved by Nanette Magliore’s eloquent, powerful speech. Both Felicite and Henri had tears shimmering in their eyes as they stared at their older brother.

  With his head slightly bowed and his hands clasped between his legs, Magliore sat without speaking for a few minutes, absorbing his mother’s impassioned words. He seemed to be overcome with emotion, as well as an overwhelming sense of gratitude that rendered him temporarily speechless.

  As Lia gazed upon him, she felt her heart expand in her chest, leaving her suddenly breathless and…frightened.

  What on earth was happening to her?

  Before she could answer her own panicked question, she heard Magliore draw a deep, ragged breath and slowly exhale. Lifting his head at last, he gazed at his family. “I love all of you,” he said in an achingly husky voice. “De tout mon coeur. With all my heart. Whatever happens, don’t ever forget that.”

  Hearing an eerie note of farewell in his voice, Felicite burst into tears.

  Magliore looked anguished. “No, no, don’t cry, ’tite chatte,” he entreated his sister. “You know what your crying has always done to me.”

  Felicite turned and sobbed into her mother’s shoulder. Tears rolled silently and mournfully down Nanette’s face as she comforted her weeping daughter. Henri looked as helpless as his brother, who glanced over beseechingly at Lia.

  She stepped forward, clearing her own constricted throat. “We should, uh, wrap this up soon.”

  Magliore nodded. He stood, walked over to the monitor and knelt down. With searing, focused intensity he stared into the sorrowful faces of each of his family members. “I have to go, but I want all of you to listen to me. Are you listening?”

  They nodded dutifully, staring intently at him.

  “When this is over,” Magliore said with fierce conviction, “we’re going to organize the biggest, most festive parade our town has ever seen. We’re going to march through the streets with our fellow countrymen, rejoicing and proclaiming our freedom to the rest of the world. And then, when the celebration is over, we’re going to roll up our sleeves and get to work rebuilding our homeland. We’re going to make Muwaiti greater than it has ever been. Do you believe me?”

  His mother and siblings nodded, their eyes bright with renewed hope and determination.

  “We’re going to get through this,” Magliore continued with feeling. “But you have to remain strong and courageous. Not just for yourselves, but for me, as well. I need your strength, your courage, your love. That’s what keeps me going. That’s what has always kept me going.” Slowly he lifted his hand to touch the screen. When Nanette, Henri and Felicite moved forward to press their hands against his in a touching show of solidarity, he smiled softly. “I will see you very soon.”

  When the call ended a few minutes later, Lia, still moved by the heartrending family reunion, began putting away the videoconferencing equipment.

  Without warning Magliore reached for her arm, gently turning her toward him.

  She stared up at him as he cradled her face between his hands. When she saw the sheen of tears glistening in his eyes, her heart swelled with an emotion so intense it took her breath away.

  She closed her eyes as he leaned down and brushed his lips across hers in a brief, achingly tender kiss.

  “Thank you,” he whispered.

  Lia nodded wordlessly, not trusting her voice.

  She watched as he walked quietly to his room and closed the door behind him.

  And then she just stood there, immobile, realizing that the greatest threat she faced was not losing her reputation or her job—or even her life.

  It was losing her heart to Armand Jacques Magliore.

  Chapter 12

  Two hours later Armand stood in his bedroom doorway with his arms folded across his chest, a smile tugging at his mouth as he gazed across the living room at Lia. She was seated on the sofa with her legs crossed yoga-style, her notebook computer propped on her lap as she worked on what appeared to be a report. Just how much progress she was actually making remained to be seen, since she couldn’t seem to keep her eyes open. As Armand watched, she would tap away furiously for a few minutes, but then, as her eyelids grew heavy, her fingers would still over the keyboard and she’d nod off.

  This went on for about ten minutes before Armand, feeling mischievous, decided to have some fun with her. Ducking back into his room, he toed off his boots and socks, then crept soundlessly across the living room. When he reached the sofa where Lia was dozing quietly, he leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Wake up, sleeping beauty.”

  She jumped nearly five feet into the air.

  Armand stepped back from the sofa with a shout of laughter. Lia whipped her head around and glared at him.

  “I’m sorry,” he gasped, clutching his stomach. “I couldn
’t resist.”

  Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “You are so lucky I realized it was you before I went for my gun.”

  This only made him laugh harder.

  Shaking her head in disgust, Lia turned back to her laptop. “Your poor sister,” she muttered. “I can only imagine the horrible pranks you must have played on her when you were growing up.”

  “Actually,” Armand countered, wiping tears of mirth from the corners of his eyes, “Felicite was the prankster, and a damn good one, at that. She was so devious she hardly ever got caught. Just ask my brother. He was her favorite victim.”

  Lia grunted noncommittally.

  Armand rounded the sofa to plunk down beside her. “What are you working on?” he asked, glancing over at her computer.

  She hit a button and the screen went blank. “Just trying to catch up on some work.”

  Armand chuckled. “So secretive.”

  “Nature of the beast,” she quipped, closing her laptop with a snap and leaning forward to set it down on the ottoman. She rolled her head in a counter-clockwise motion, then lifted her hand and rubbed the muscles at the back of her neck.

  Without thinking Armand reached up, replacing her hand with his own. She tensed immediately.

  “Relax,” he murmured. “Let me help you out a little.”

  She hesitated, then gave a slight nod.

  As his fingers began kneading the skin at her nape, he felt the tension slowly ebbing from her body. Her eyes drifted closed and her head fell forward limply, giving him greater access to her neck and shoulders. God, she felt incredible.

  “Why didn’t you lie down and take a nap?” Armand asked before his imagination began to wander. “You kept falling asleep out here.”

  “I know,” Lia mumbled drowsily. “Rain always makes me sleepy.”

  Even as she spoke, thunder rumbled outside, right above the cabin. A strong gust of wind sent billowing curtains of rain lashing against the windows. The lights flickered.

  “It hasn’t let up all morning,” Armand observed, gently working the knots out of her shoulders.